Angel

by Victoria Johns

  A set of clicking fingers appeared in front of my face. “Earth to Grace.”

  “Sorry, a million miles away. What were you saying?”

  I looked over at Davis who was smirking at me, holding his champagne flute like he was about to toast something. “Tonight, the commerce gala. That charity bullshit I pay handsomely to be a part of. You need to be ready for the limo at seven o’clock.”

  “Have I not done enough for you today?”

  “Not nearly. Limo. Seven. Be ready and try to dress nicely. Not like some reject from a Whitesnake groupie audition this time. Laters.”

  The cheeky shit was out of his chair faster than I could grab for my champagne and hurl it at him. I was not beyond dousing him in public and he knew it, but it was good champagne. My steak was brought to the table and I enjoyed my own company for a little while, surfing random stuff on my cell between mouthfuls. Every once in a while, I would glance back over to the corner just to convince myself I wasn’t seeing things.

  “You look pretty.” Mom smiled, standing in the kitchen appraising my choice of evening dress.

  “I shouldn’t have eaten an enormous steak at lunch. It’s Davis’ own fault that I’m heaving out of this thing. I may play on it and pretend to be pregnant. That’d put a dent in his pulling plans for the night. Serves him right for making me go.”

  She laughed. She knew all about the love/hate thing I had with my boss. “Having you on his arm, I doubt he’ll mind.”

  I felt a presence behind me and turned around to see my dad leaning against the doorframe. His arms were crossed over his chest, and from his shoulders down it looked like he was about to burst out of his clothes. His muscles were tight, and I could see why my mom permanently swooned over him; even getting older he was still attractive.

  I swallowed nervously, unable to read what was going through his head. I thought I’d got away with keeping my secret under wraps, but maybe not. “Alright?”

  In a sudden move, he pushed himself off the woodwork and came over to me. “You look like a fucking angel. So beautiful and pure, it’s like looking at the sun.”

  “Dad,” I mumbled embarrassed, ducking my head to try to hide the rosy tint that was seeping across my cheeks.

  I was wearing a midnight blue, off the shoulder dress. It was made of imitation silk and was tight like a body suit. I was tempted to go for one of my more swishy dresses, but Davis’ comment about the eighties was too much of a temptation. I was going for Kelly Le Brock in Weird Science. I was just disappointed that I didn’t have something with shoulder pads to really pull it off.

  “You do know those biker boots don’t go,” I heard him whisper as he kissed the top of my head.

  I leant back and looked at my feet. “I just wanted to freak Davis out when he climbs out of the limo.”

  I saw a huge smile land on his face. “Never change, Angel. Never change.”

  This was what would kill me the most if I had to leave. These people loved me and embraced everything about me. It didn’t matter what crap I threw their way, they sucked it up and dealt with it, and going through high school, there was a lot. I didn’t think their compassion would extend to causing the death and murder of their brother, though.

  A knock was heard from the front door and I chased Dad to get it open first.

  The first time Davis insisted on picking me up was hilarious. Dad made him feel like an errant boy picking up a prom date he planned to defile later. I was just hoping Davis would fire me because he wanted nothing to do with a girl from a biker family, but that wasn’t the case. He just shrugged it off and said, “That explains the attitude.” My mom and dad burst out laughing and they’d been on cordial terms ever since.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, it’s Bonnie Tyler.” He wasn’t wrong; my hair was a cross between crazy curls and electrocution. “You’ll do. Let’s hop to it.” I ran forward to the Limo, which was currently conducting a million-point-turn in our short dirt track-come-driveway.

  “Shoes!” I heard mom shout and Davis ran back inside before appearing holding my glitzy silver sandals in his hands.

  The night was the usual boring affair. There was far too many stuffy fat blokes in tuxedos that had needed resizing a decade ago. All bolster and swagger, having a pissing contest over who was worth the most money. Davis was the odd one out; he was younger than they were, and because of that I was always left with their old, stuffy wives or their plastically enhanced bimbo rent-a-dates. I bloody hated these things.

  The dinner part of the evening went as expected. I pushed Davis’ tolerance of me by randomly sticking a fork in his food as he was eating. He found it necessary to apologize for my manners, but I could see that most of the old guys found me entertaining in an, ‘I’d love to let you suck my saggy balls’ kind of way.

  After dinner, I stuck to Davis, as was required, and circulated with him while he made small talk here and there. After hearing him promise to meet some old fat guy for a round of golf for the fifteenth time, I knew the mingling part of the night was over. The hall lights dimmed and a band appeared from behind a curtain as many of the older guys grabbed their females and dragged them onto the dance floor. The timing was perfect for all of the females; most of us were one step away from coma boredom and they, like me, knew the end was in sight.

  “Dance with me,” Davis demanded, and I knew if I didn’t dance with him, some lecherous old wrinkly would be sidling up to ask me just so they could cop a feel. Davis was the lesser of a lot of evils.

  He took my hand in his and we shuffled back and to on the dance floor. “You’ve done well tonight, Grace. No flying punches or unnecessary f-bombs. You’re improving with age.”

  “Less of the old, Davis. My dress may look tight, but I bet my knee caps could tickle your ball sack with very little effort.”

  “And I do believe my balls have just shrunk,” he muttered. “I should fire you for the way you speak to me.”

  “You probably should, but then who would amuse you on a daily basis?”

  Davis opened his mouth to respond with some equally funny comment when the words, “Excuse me, could I cut in?” sounded over my shoulder and the man saying them was so close that I shivered when I felt his breath pass my ear.

  Davis’ face changed when he looked up at the man. “Of course. My Executive Assistant, Grace Collins, allow me to introduce you to Declan Foster. I’ll be over at the bar if you need me.”

  The look on his face was one of concern, like he didn’t really want to hand me over to Declan at all.

  “I’m all danced out, I’ll come with you,” I tried, but I was too late—my hand had already been swallowed up in Declan’s huge palm and his free hand was snaked around my hip branding me, pulling me closer to him.

  “We need to talk.” The words made me panic.

  My hopes of being able to get through the day without my family finding out my sins had finally run out and Declan was sure to remind me of that. “Or not.”

  “I see your smart mouth and desire for drama haven’t changed. Don’t get in my fucking way, Rosie.”

  He called me by a name I’d not heard since I was a little girl. It sounded alien spilling from his lips. I’d never expected to hear it again and certainly not from him. I wanted to bolt from the dance floor and head home. Nothing good could come from this. It was really happening; I was going to have to leave JP, Vix and the others. My family.

  But first I had to get my head around the fact that the shy little boy from the trailer park was filling out a plain black dinner suit like it had been made for him, and talking in such an assertive way I had to keep reminding myself who this person really was.

  As my brain spun, the biggest question of all smacked me in the face: what the hell was he doing here?

  I wouldn’t say we were sharing a pleasant dance. It was more like the most uncomfortable, electrically charged moment of my life so far.

  Well, besides sitting watching a man die in a trailer.

  All t
hose times I’d worked on car after car, hearing the engines turn for the first time, or when I’d snuck off to meet with some guy I was going to fuck, chew up and spit out in a motel paled into comparison, such was his magnetism.

  Wolf, or Declan, both the biker and the guy wearing the suit, confused the hell out of me. When he warned me about not getting in his way, I felt this need to kick off my sandals and run. There was something in his eyes that left me feeling cold, like the young boy I once knew had been sucked up and consumed by this man and was gone forever.

  “I see you’re taking this seriously. I don’t want you in my business. Am I making myself clear?”

  I didn’t answer his demand. I may have been a teeny bit scared of him, but I was still me and the essence of me was curious, a pain in the ass, and always looking for danger and excitement. The song played by the band came to an end and the minute I felt his grip loosen, I pulled away and backed through the other dancers on the ballroom floor. Before I could talk myself out of it, I was heading out of the door and in search of our limo. Davis wouldn’t be bothered that I’d left; he was probably already booking a hotel room for the night with one of the bored trophy wives.

  My past had strolled through my door wearing a biker’s cut, emblazoned with the word ‘President,’ one minute, and then transformed himself to attend an event with the who’s who of the city dressed in what was surely a custom made three piece suit and he knew my boss.

  It was still early and I was far too restless to call it a night. My mind was spinning with what I’d seen. My boots were still in the back of the limo, so I changed straight into them and got the driver to drop me at the end of the compound. I needed something to distract me and when I heard the music beating through the walls of the place, I knew the workshop would be empty. If anything could give my head some clarity it was the structure of piecing together an old engine block.

  I was still in my dress, but I was far from bothered. In the past when I’d had sleepless nights after nightmares, I’d been found working on cars wearing a bathrobe and slippers. The Sentinels workshop offered me the comfort of familiarity, and I knew as soon as the smell of oil and grease hit my nostrils, peace would soon follow.

  I was surprised to find the workshop door open; climbing through the window in this dress would have been a pain. After roughly tying my hair up with a holder I found in the bottom of my purse, I dumped the purse and got on with my distraction. I was up to speed with the progress of the Mustangs and knew a parts truck had delivered the bits needed to start reworking the engines. There, on the side of a huge workbench, was an old hunk of metal that in a few weeks time would be shining and buffed like a mirror. There was a small precision desk lamp beside it that illuminated the area, and a tall stool, which was hell to get onto in my cocktail dress. The only way to get close enough to the bench on it, was to hitch the dress up to the top of my thighs and widen my legs in a most unladylike fashion. As the minutes moved past, I poked and prodded the parts that had been laid out as if I was conducting a life-saving operation, taking care to replace each tool, in the same place after I’d used it. One of the most important things my dad and his brothers had taught me was that a work area was reflective of the care and attention you took on a job. Messy tools lead to sloppy mistakes and if you had no pride in your equipment, you had no business working on someone’s pride and joy.

  I had no idea how much time had passed, but the consistent change of the songs from the club house every three of four minutes gave me some idea that it was probably close to two hours. The music would get louder each time the door opened and closed, as I continued on in routine oblivion until the door at the far end of the workshop squeaked open.

  Quick as a snake, I clicked the lamp on the workbench off and silently slipped off the stool. Whoever had come had left the lights off, so I was able to hide in a corner just out of sight. Even though the door hadn’t been locked and I shouldn’t have been in there, I was in no mood for a lecture from one of the brothers.

  “You’re new,” squeaked a high pitched voice I knew belonged to club bunny CeeCee, followed by what I’m sure was the pop of bubblegum and a set of heels and motorcycle boots coming closer.

  “Just visiting, sweetheart.”

  I knew the rumble of that voice. It was the reason I was here trying to escape my own head, trying to figure out what the fuck he was doing here, disturbing my life.

  They stopped on the other side of the workshop and I peered around the corner and watched as Declan, sheathed in moonlight, pushed her up against one of the Mustangs that had yet to go up on a ramp.

  Seeing him back in his biker clothes was confusing. My head couldn’t figure out which outfit he was most at home in. If it was designed to have people—me included—on edge, it was working.

  Declan began to kiss her, and I could hear their murmured foreplay increasing. As I continued to spy on them from where I was, knowing I should look away and give them some privacy, I couldn’t. He was just too enticing and powerful. It was like staring at the sun—eventually, you know it’s going to burn your eyes, but you still do it. With my heart in my mouth, I watched as he took a step back and unbuckled his belt. CeeCee was practiced in what that meant and immediately fell to her knees. Her murmuring was the only thing I could hear, mixed in with some slurping and over the top sounds that would have been at home in an amateur porn film.

  When I looked at Declan, though, he didn’t seem interested in her. He wasn’t even watching what she was doing. He was looking in my direction. It was like he hardly registered that there was a woman on her knees blowing him.

  I watched as he stepped away from her vacuous mouth. “Hey! I wasn’t done.”

  “I am. Leave.”

  I stayed where I was, back pinned to the wall, fingers gripping the outside corner hoping he’d not noticed me, and he was true to his word; he was done. I heard her pointed stilettos strike the cement floor, the noise fading as she got closer to the door. The cadence of her step told me that she was swaying her ass in his direction, desperate to entice him into dragging her back and continuing.

  After a moment or two, I heard his boots wander away and the door squeak open and closed.

  A rush of oxygen left my lips and when I peeled my fingertips from the cold wall, I knew they were trembling slightly.

  “So, watching people fuck is still a temptation for you, Rosie.”

  I jumped at the sound of his voice, nearly retreating back to my voyeur’s corner. “Stop calling me that. I thought you’d left.”

  I took a pace back as he pushed himself off the wall by the door and sauntered in my direction. “Why? It’s your name.”

  “I’m guessing you wouldn’t want me calling you Dec in front of people, unless you’re wearing that expensive pant suit like earlier.” My brain was desperately telling my body to back up, get away from him, but my body was not responding. It was operating with a need to be close to the one person who really knew me. “How did you know I was here?”

  “Saw the purse on the worktop. I need to know you won’t talk.”

  Declan or Wolf was one big conundrum. He was starting to confuse me because he was choosing now to be reasonable. The threatening guy in the suit was gone and now I was faced with that oxymoron known as a reasonable biker. “About?”

  “Me, us, our past. Tonight.”

  “Talking would be difficult. I don’t know anything about you. This person in front of me. The guy in the suit from earlier is not the Declan I remember.”

  “Oh, he’s long gone.”

  “I can see that.”

  “That night…” Declan started to talk about something I’d often thought about. The fact that I caused the death of a man and then benefited from it was never far from my mind.

  “We’re not talking about that ever. If you keep quiet about what happened then I will treat you like a complete stranger from now on.”

  I watched as my words briefly affected him, just like seeing him get a b
lowjob from CeeCee had affected me. All too soon, though, that emotion was over and the man in the snug black denims in front of me was morphing into the arrogant suited prick from the gala dinner. “They don’t know it was your fault that Chopper took an axe to the head? You never told them?”

  “No. Just like I’m assuming they don’t know it was your dad who swung it.”

  My defiance was stepping into gear. The threat in my tone and words was implicit. Wolf might be used to intimidating his brethren of followers in the Carnals, but I wasn’t one of them. “I’ll forget you said that.”

  “Forget what you like. Now, we’re done.”

  I walked past him and like last time I was in his presence, he grabbed my wrist and the burn of his skin against mine was scalding. “Rosie.”

  “It’s fucking Grace. Rosie is dead.” I dragged my hand from his and walked off this time, without his interruption.

  As I stomped back across the field to the house, I felt a range of emotions I wasn’t prepared for.

  I was sad that the Declan of my childhood was gone. I may have never seen him, but in the back of my mind there was always someone out there I could consider the last link with my old life. Now he was someone different and that had finally died, Rosie Collins was no longer of any significance either. If he didn’t want our connection to the past known, it worried and confused me about why he was really threatening me. One minute he was an aggressive, demanding biker and the next he was a well-dressed and respectable member of society.

  But mostly I was angry. Angry that he was able to get me hot under the collar. Seeing him command CeeCee with just a few words was a serious turn on. I hated the fact that he wasn’t interested in me. Even with our past connection, it seemed I was unable to register but the barest flicker of excitement in him. Understanding that was like having my heart squeezed tighter than tight because I knew if we’d still been in each other’s lives we would have been important to one another. And even worse, had I been around to watch this version of Declan grow up and mature, I would have never left his side. I would have loved everything about him.